Personal Narrative-The Matters Of A Cutting Drone

The Matters of a Cutting Drone

The chill slowly leaked through the pores of my sweatshirt; the sun shined bright, but helped very little to warm my skin. A single breath left a puff of mist as white as snow. Despite that, there was none there were leaves, dying and living as far as the eye could see. A stout 6’1 I stood, feeling as if I owned the world as the little black device with 4 propellers soared through the air; an object I controlled. Slow then fast, high then low, it circled around me, I believed I was in complete control. There they were, standing gazing and admiring as it took flight as if nothing could have gone wrong. A young woman ripe in age, her face so young, but you could tell she was no younger than 20. Beside her stood

There was nothing to interfere for at least 100 feet each way including down. In confidence, I flew it around in a broad circle getting closer to surrounding objects that interfere as it whisked back to my position. That trip around made me feel as if I were a trained professional so I took another increasing in speed. It came back to my location so smooth and yet so quickly. I took another lap decreasing in height from the ground. I believed nothing could have gone wrong; there was no place for failure in my mind. At this point we had enjoyed a good 20 something laps according to the device’s battery life, so it was time to land. Before the fun was to end, I decided to enjoy one last lap.

As I took it for one last lap it whirled through the air at elegant speeds of 30mph quickly coming around. It soared gracefully the first 25 degrees, then 50, then 90, as the speed increased and the midnight black device with 4 propellers came cornering 130 degrees around it seemed as if something had gone wrong. Control was no longer mine, the satellite connection between my iPad and the drone had been lost. I watched as the device abruptly flew out of control, then we heard a bang followed by scratching and scraping sounds. The little device had been stuck in 8 feet of old rotting